


Mala of the Long Road

by sniperct



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Elves, F/F, Fantasy, Knights - Freeform, Magic, Realistic Armor, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22759627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniperct/pseuds/sniperct
Summary: Mala is a knight, the kind that roams the countryside helping people. While investigating reports of undead, she follows a faint glow and gets drawn into a quest to help an ethereal elf. Is it possible to fall for someone who may not even exist?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 18
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to my word press some years ago, but I messed that up, so hopefully someone will enjoy it here!

It was the jingling of metal that caught Mala’s attention. It was soft, almost unnoticeable, and accompanied by an uneven set of shuffling footsteps. The knight turned towards the sound as a creature lumbered around an ancient oak tree. Once, it had been a man, but his soul had long ago fled. All that remained was brittle, dry skin and patches of exposed bone. Its eyes glowed eerily green as it focused on her. She drew her sword from her back and clasped the hilt in both hands, steeling herself against the fear that ran up her spine. Lifting her weapon and holding it at her shoulder with the point towards the shambling corpse, she readied herself. The creature rushed forward. One strike and the body collapsed into dust, the head bouncing off and into the murky water along the edge of the bog.

Undead were not common in these parts. Bandits and goblins yes. Walking corpses, not so much. Mala rested the flat of her sword on her shoulder as she crept further into the bog. It was best to be sure that was the only one before she returned to town for her reward. A heavy mist rose to her waist, and she had to tread carefully. Though she was wearing chain and leather instead of heavier armor, one misstep could have sent her sinking to the bottom of the swamp.  
Something moved ahead. A faint blue glow, almost like a candle, and she found herself following it before she had even realized what she was doing. The light stopped when she halted, and approached her. Out of the mist stepped a dark woman, tall and lithe, with piercing amber eyes and hair the color of raven feathers. She wore a shimmering aquamarine gown that clung to her form, but the woman was gone before Mala could say anything.

Wiping sweat from her brow and pushing strands of brown hair back under her leather helm, Mala stared at the space where she’d seen the apparition. She was seeing things. She’d been in the swamp for too many hours. She turned, only to be faced with the apparition once more. The woman was very close now. Close enough to read her eyes, to see a soft glow on tawny skin and catch a sultry quirk of the woman’s lips. Her features were striking, with sharply angled cheek bones and long, elegantly pointed ears.  
While Mala remembered how to breathe, the woman took off at a light jog, and the knight felt compelled to follow her. She remembered the last time she’d seen an elf, years ago as a child. They were rare, but a group of them had come to trade with her village, and they’d caroused and danced long into the night. She’d made friends with one of their children, though she hadn’t thought about that day in a very long time.

The elf flitted through the trees, at times disappearing, only to reappear moments later much farther away. Mala paced herself. She couldn’t walk on water like the apparition could, and she could easily grow exhausted. Gradually, she was led out of the swamp and into a green forest. The sun had crested hours ago, but still she let herself be led through the trees, and into the ruins of an old temple. Archways had fallen onto stone paths, and a domed roof was cracked and half collapsed. She entered cautiously, and very nearly lost her head.

Mala’s reflexes were the only thing that saved her as she ducked under the lumbering swing of a large broadsword. The sword came around and she rolled out of the way. Though she was tall for a human, the creature she faced was at least twice her height. She drew her weapon and tried to get a better position. The light that fell through the cracked roof gave her her first real look at her opponent. Broad shouldered, with the head and torso of a man and the body of some beast she couldn’t identify. He gave her a twisted grin, and swung hard and fast at her side. The blow was a glancing one, and she hit the ground, skidding into a partially crumbled statue. Her mail was rent and the leather padding sliced nearly clean through, but the worst she was going to have would be a serious bruise.

The monster rapidly closed the distance. Grasping for her sword, she lifted it in a desperate attempt to deflect a blow that never came. Between her and the beast stood the elf she’d been following. Her gown swirled around bare feet as she wielded a scythe. Runes glimmered up its shaft, and the blade was engraved with images of flowing water. The muscles in her arms flexed and she twisted her scythe. The monster was thrown off balance, stumbling as he tried to recover. The elf woman danced to the side, swiping her weapon at the beast. He deflected the attack, but the elf moved fluidly, weaving under his sword. She slashed across his chest and thick green blood oozed out of the wound.

The elf flowed through her movements like the pattern of water on her weapon. Mala pulled herself to her feet, searching for an opening. She needn’t have bothered. The scythe cut through the air and through the creature’s throat. He came crashing down, nearly knocking Mala back off her feet from way the temple shook. His body twitched as viscous green blood pooled where he lay.

Not yet willing to sheathe her sword, Mala cautiously approached the elf. “Thank you. How can I repay you for saving my life?”

“There is a way,” she said. Her voice was low and deep, honey to Mala’s ears. It was a commanding voice, one used to giving orders.

“Tell me, and if it does not go against my code, then I shall do it.”

The woman lifted her hand, as if she were going to touch Mala’s face. “What is your name?”

The elf’s fingers didn’t quite reach Mala’s cheeks, and she found herself unable to move. “Mala. Mala of the Long Road.”

“There’s a story in that name. One day I shall like to hear it,” the elf laughed. She tilted her head, and touched her fingers to Mala’s skin. “I am Leilatha. Or I will be again, if you help me.”

Leilatha regarded her for another moment, before turning on her heels. “Please. This way. There is something you will need.”

Mala followed, adjusting her grip on the hilt of her sword as she stepped under an archway and into an antechamber of the temple. The roof was intact here, and no sun streamed in. That didn’t seem to matter. Wherever the elf stood, there was light. A soft, blue glow that constantly drew Mala’s eye. She watched as the elf circled a dias, then tapped her scythe against the stone. Blue light flowed like streams along engravings, and then something began to rise out of the stone.

It was an axe, marked with the same sort of runes that decorated Leilatha’s staff. The blade had different engravings entirely. While the scythe reminded Mala of rivers and streams, the axe was lightning, and thunder. She reached for it, and when she lifted it up she could feel a buzzing in the air. “Generally, I prefer swords.”

“Sometimes you have to try something new.” Leilatha’s tone was light and suggestive, and Mala felt her face heat up as the elf broke into a grin. “We will see each other again, Mala of the Long Road. Where the blue dragon meets the red.”

Flustered, Mala retorted, “I’ll have you know that I’ve handled axes before.” She wasn’t entirely certain that they were even talking about weapons any more, but the glow was gone and the knight was alone. She looked around in confusion, but the only sign of life in the temple was a squirrel. It scolded her as she trudged back towards town to retrieve her horse, Dawn, and the rest of her gear.


	2. Chapter 2

Early the next day, Mala guided Dawn at a brisk walk down the sunlit path through the forest. Her armor weighed on her, but it was a short ride to the next town. Once, far to the north and west, she’d fought alongside warriors who’d worn little more than a loincloth into battle. Their offensive strength had impressed her but she preferred the weight of the plate on her chest and the reassurance of the padding that had saved her from the monster’s blade. She’d picked up a few tricks, though, and thinking about that she reached for the haft of her new axe. It hummed under her hand. She would have to be careful. Weapons like these could consume a person if used too much. She’d witnessed that first hand, and it was a bitter memory.

It was late in the afternoon by the time she reached the next town. A festival was in full swing, so she stabled her horse, left her armor with a blacksmith to repair and stowed her gear in a tavern room. It was like many festivals she’d seen before. Colorful lanterns and streamers in the wind. Her ears welcomed the music and her stomach grumbled as soon as she got a whiff of something roasting in a pit.

She sated her hunger, chatting amiably with a grizzled old man. He recounted stories of fighting pirates at sea, and his audience (mostly children) was enraptured. It was an entertaining tale, and to Mala’s ears she wasn’t entirely sure he was exaggerating as much as he could have been. She declined an invitation to test her skill in a contest, preferring instead to watch the children play. Her eye was drawn to one girl, with ruddy red hair and a dark complexion. She was smaller than the others, though no less brave and stubborn than even the biggest child.

“Come here,” she said, gesturing the girl over. She leaned down, and gently took her hand. “Hold your sword like this.” She showed her with her own hand, then helped the girl wrap her fingers around the hilt of her wooden sword. “You’ll have a better grip and you won’t lose your sword. Even better, it’ll sting the boys more when you smack them with it. If you hold your shield like so…”

Mala demonstrated, guiding the girl’s small arms into the correct positions. She even gave her a quick lesson in bashing with her shield. They shared a smile, and then the little girl ran off, back into the fray with all the energy of a dervish. She thwacked one boy right on the thigh and his yelp echoed across the grass.

“That one is goin’ to be trouble.”

Mala turned at the sound of a voice. A middle-aged woman sat down next to her, an amused smile on her weathered face. The knight nodded her head. “My sister and I started out that way. The little hellions. Her with her homemade shield and me swinging a great big stick. No one could get through her when she set her mind to it.”

“Grew up to be a defender?” The woman asked.

Sadness welled up inside of Mala, and her smile held just a hint of bitterness. “Shield bearer to the very end.”

“I’m sorry.” She put a hand on Mala’s arm, squeezing lightly. “Though that does remind me of a local legend. Lovers, not sisters, though.”

It had been two years since that day and sometimes thinking about it still made her heart heavy. She welcomed the distraction.”I’d like to hear it. I’m Mala.”

“Call me Kaya.”

Like most stories, it started long ago. The town had been founded by two families. One family’s crest was a blue dragon over a shield, and the second was a red dragon, with sword in mouth. For years, the families and the town prospered, until a drought ravaged the fields and disease brought both families low.

A boy, no more than seventeen, decided to venture out to find out why the river had stopped flowing. Wearing the red crest of his family, he left the town late one night. But he didn’t go alone. Accompanying him was a girl a few years older. She bore a shield and an axe, and together they followed the dried stream bed into the mountains.

There, where the river started, they faced a calamitous beast. Its bellows echoed off the rocks like thunder and its claws were as strong as steel. The battle lasted two days, the struggle dislodging several boulders that had blocked off the water. The girl had been mortally wounded, her shield sundered.

The boy lay dying in her arms and together they watched the river spill forth. Rather than wash them away, it split in two. One stream traveled south before curving to the east, while the other continued south-east. Those rivers became known as the Blue Dragon River and the Red Dragon River. Where they both met became a common spot for lovers to tryst.

Where the blue dragon meets the red… The words came back to Mala, and she thought about the beautiful elf who’d saved her life. “I think I’d like to see that place. Someone once promised to meet me there.”

Kaya laughed. “Do you have a lover you’re eager to see?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Though Leilatha was beautiful and the idea an appealing one.

“Take the road North out of the city, and follow the eastern fork. It’s about two hours walk from there.” Her eyes twinkled, and she elbowed Mala knowingly. “The stories I could tell you.”

As eager as she was, it was too late to leave now. She listened to another of Kaya’s stories. This one sounded a bit more personal had the ring of truth about it. It left her ears burning by the end of it. Excusing herself, she returned to her room and tried to sleep. She dreamt of her sister, shield shattered in two and body broken. She traced her fingers over her dying face and across the old scar over her eye. Leilatha pulled her away and she wept into the elf’s arms.

She woke, confused. There’d been no one to comfort her, then, just as there was no one to comfort her now. She shook the dream off. Usually donning her armor helped her focus on the day ahead, but she still needed to retrieve it from the blacksmith. Traveling alone, she’d long ago abandoned her heaviest plate as it was too difficult to get into without help. She ran gloved fingers over the chainmail on her stomach, and fingered the damage from the creature two days ago. She stepped outside. Leilatha stood in the road. There one instant, and gone the next. She quickly rode to the blacksmith, and distracted, paid him extra. She ran her fingers over the chain once more, and immediately felt more herself.

Following the road north, Mala found the fork in the road just as Kaya had described it. She thought she saw Leilatha in the distance, but like earlier the elf was gone almost as soon as she’d seen her. Driving Dawn perhaps too hard, she rode east. She spotted the Red Dragon first, and followed it. It was a fast, thin river, mostly rapids and waterfalls. It flowed into a wide, lazy river that she assumed was the Blue Dragon. There was a large oak tree whose roots shared the banks of both rivers and it was here she found Leilatha waiting. The elf leaned on her scythe, a kind smile on her face. The blue aura was still present around her, and a breeze made her thin gown cling to her front.

Mala caught herself staring, then held her hand out. “Ride with me?”

“I’m afraid I can’t ride with you. Not yet.” Leilatha stepped closer, running her hand along the horse’s neck, before resting it on Mala’s thigh. “I promise you, it will all be clear in time. Follow the river until you find the sun set into stone. There, you’ll be able to help me.”

She was gone before Mala could take another breath. Grunting in frustration, she kicked her horse up to a gallop. Perhaps she rode to her death, but she’d taken this quest on an instinct, and she intended to see it done.

The more time passed, the more transparent her quarry became. After two days, the elf had faded to just a light dancing at the far end of Mala’s vision. On the third day, as she made camp, she began to wonder if this was all in her head. Perhaps she lay dying on the ground in that old temple, the beast lumbering over to finish the job. She muttered to herself as she started a fire and set a rabbit over the flame.

“I’ve only so much power left.” The voice whispered in her ear, and ghostly lips caressed her cheek. “Projecting myself weakens me. I used most of my strength to aide you. If you do not find me by this time tomorrow, there will be nothing left to save.”

“What holds you so, that you were strong enough to defeat that creature and yet can’t escape?” The apparition was barely there, moving around her like a wisp. She felt those lips again, soft and fleeting, against the side of her neck.

“Freeing me is the easy part.”

Mala closed her eyes. As soft and fleeting as that sensation was, it was still warm. Still alive. “There’s always a trial, isn’t there.”

Leilatha moved in front of her. She was just an outline of blue light now, hair floating around her head. But her eyes were as enrapturing as ever, and her chuckle echoed in Mala’s head. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I haven’t even gotten there.” Leilatha was still solid enough to touch, and Mala braved a hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you for coming this far. You didn’t have to.”

Mala’s hand dropped to her side as the elf faded away. Sighing, she sat on a log and poked at her roasting meal. “Can’t have you wasting away if there’s still a chance, now can I?” She’d come. It was as much curiosity as her word of honor that drove her. She had one day. She’d best make use of every minute she could.


	3. Chapter 3

Waking before sunrise, Mala had her camp broken down and her horse prepped by the first rays of light. She felt a sense of urgency that she hadn’t experienced in years and rode like the gates of hell had opened up behind her. Though she had now ridden into places she’d only heard whisperings about, she knew where she was headed.

The sun was directly overhead when she found the ruins. Once a mighty palace carved from marble and jade, much of its riches had been plundered over the centuries. Still, its ruins rose up majestically, a skeleton of ancient splendor. Mala felt small as she stepped up to the entrance, the air growing colder the closer she got. It felt as old as it looked, but somehow the air did not feel lifeless.

The gate had worn away, until only fragments jutted out like broken teeth in a gaping maw. She could just make out the sun engraved into the stone at the top of the gate’s ruined arch. And past the gate lay darkness. Her axe crackled as she drew it from her back. It gave her light, but it would also alert anything dwelling within. She wasn’t sure if that was a fair trade-off, just yet.

Mala moved cautiously, until the gate had disappeared into the dark and her sense of direction threatened to get her turned around. “Leilatha?” She kept her voice low, hoping for something to show her the way. There was no response, save the sound of something scraping in the distance. Perhaps not the sign she was looking for, but one she was willing to take. Mala followed the sound, finding a hallway decorated with spiraling arches long overgrown with vines. She traveled down the hallway, her weapon illuminating faded paintings of gilded lords and ladies, and proud queens.

The hallway opened up into a grand chamber. Light filtered down from somewhere high above, speckles of dust dancing in the beams. Looking up, she couldn’t even see the ceiling. Statues littered the chamber. Some stood on pedestals, others lay on the ground. Many were shattered and broken and even without counting Mala thought that there were more statues than there were pedestals for them.

Though this palace had been in ruin for centuries, the black marble floor still shone when she lowered her axe closer to it. She could see her reflection. Grim-faced, bronze skin dirty from travel, tousled brown hair sticking out of her helm in a mess from the ride. Straightening, Mala walked further in. At the far end stood a throne, and on the throne sat a statue of an elf maiden. She appeared to have been carved from obsidian, her features so lifelike that Mala half expected her to stand when she approached. Her heart pounded in her ears. “Leilatha!”

Mala pulled off her gauntlet and lifted her hand, cupping the statue’s cheek. She expected the stone to be cold, but it was warm to the touch and so smooth that she could almost fool herself into thinking her thumb stroked across flesh. “Is this what you meant? Are you frozen in stone? How can I free you?” She glanced around. More importantly, was it some demon that turned her to stone, or a curse? There were hundreds of stories to choose from and Mala wondered if the cause might still be around. Suddenly, all those broken statues seemed more ominous. There had to be a clue somewhere in this ruin. She wasn’t sure how much time she even had. No more than six hours, she thought, before Leilatha would be gone forever. It was a small consolation that the others who were frozen were likely less powerful, and had faded away long before being broken.

Turning back to Leilatha, she planted a kiss on her brow. “We still have time, your majesty. I suppose I should call you that now, shouldn’t I? You did seem rather Queenly.” She stepped down from the throne, and moved towards a group of statues. They were clustered around a fallen cistern. Though the water had long ago evaporated, there was something curious about the grass that had cracked though the marble. Kneeling, she poked a blade, and it snapped off. Stone.

“There was something in the water.” She inspected the piece of broken stone. It looked like it was solid all the way through. So how was Leilatha still alive? Magic wasn’t something she knew very well. That had been the domain of a close friend of her sister’s, one who was much too far away to be any help now.

But she knew weapons could hold power, and that curses existed. That the world was filled with strange creatures. She’d once fought a monster with the torso of a woman and a snake’s body. But she didn’t understand how any of it worked, or how to mold magic into something she could use. Her hand tightened around the haft of the axe, and she stared at it as if it held the secret to freeing Leilatha. Just maybe, it did.

Conscious that the shuffling sound she’d heard earlier had ceased, Mala set out from the throne room through the door opposite the one she’d come through. She followed an endless maze of hallways and tunnels for an indeterminable time. It was frustrating and fruitless, until she reached wine cellars deep beneath the palace. The wine had long ago spoiled, caskets and bottles shattered and broken. And she heard that sound again, something moving in the darkness.

Eyes glinted in the light of her axe and she brandished it in two hands as the creature shambled towards her. Electricity crackled, and she recognized it as a walking corpse. Taller and more gaunt than others she’d seen, she wondered if it was related to the one she’d slain before she’d met Leilatha. That thought quickly faded as she parried a strike. The corpse moved jerkily, but struck at her quick as a snake. Whoever he’d been in life had been a tremendous warrior, and probably Elvish.

She locked her axe with his weapon, catching the sword between haft and blade, then used the leverage to push back against her enemy. He stumbled back, and she lunged forward, her blade cutting the top of his head off. He crumbled to the ground at her feet. Straightening, Mala lifted her axe, illuminating where the corpse had come from. A crack in the wall, and through it she could hear water. It was just wide enough for her to squeeze through, though she had to stoop. There was a tunnel that weaved around in a half circle before opening into a cavern. Moss glowed on rocks, and at the center of the cavern was a pool, reflecting green and blue light.

The pool was mostly still, though she could hear the gentle flow of water somewhere nearby. She knelt. It was reflective like a mirror, and as with the marble she could see herself staring back. Her reflection frowned, then arms reached out. A hand clasped around her throat and another wrapped around her back, yanking her into the water. The pool was very deep, and Mala struggled against the figure that held onto her. Its grip was vice-like and if she didn’t drown, its hand would surely choke her.

Lungs burning, Mala kicked once, and then a second time, and beat her axe at its body. One blow connected, and she was released. Kicking off of the lakebed, she shot upward only to slam head first into surface of the pool. It had iced over, or turned to glass and her vision briefly blurred. Gasping, she swung her axe. A spiderweb of cracks spread out from the impact, and on her second swing she broke through. Coughing, Mala dragged herself out of the water. She barely had time to regain her senses when something grabbed her leg. Twisting out of the way and rolling to her feet, Mala hefted her axe as she stared her new opponent down.

A woman stood in front of her, water dripping from auburn hair. She wore armor that was heavier than Mala’s and wielded a sword and shield. Her eyes were light, like Mala’s, her face the same round shape and her nose with that same indent that had embarrassed her when she was younger. It was the scar over her doppelganger’s left eye that caused Mala’s stomach to drop. Adjusting her grip on the axe, Mala readied herself and growled. “Whatever you are, you are not my sister. You are not Anu!”

Grinning, Anu lifted her shield and smacked the flat of her sword against it in challenge. Mala didn’t rise to the bait. She’d laid her twin to rest years ago, and buried her grief and guilt in the same grave.

“Will you hesitate again?”

“What are you?”

“A reflection of you.” She darted forward, sliding below the arc of Mala’s axe. The sword cut across Mala’s hip as she spun away. It stung, but Mala only spared it a short glance.

Her reflection grinned. “Just a little faster, sister. All you needed to be was one second faster.”

“Is this a test? Do you think you can rattle me with something I’ve argued with myself over and over?”

Not saying anything else, Anu surged forward again. Mala dodged the attack, her axe redirected by the shield. She twisted back, knocking the next attack to the side and ramming her shoulder into Anu’s chest. Using the momentum to her advantage, she brought them both to the ground and pressed the blade of her axe against her enemy’s throat.

“All of this,” Anu rasped, her skin drawing taut against her skull and her eyes turning a sickly color. Her sister replaced by a ghoulish face. “For what?”

“I gave my word to help someone.” Mala pushed with the haft of the axe, until she’d removed the ghoul’s head. Her body ached as she got to her feet. The water in the pool had drained. In the center lay a stone circle, demonic writing carved into it. It looked heavy, too sturdy to be easily broken. Despite how daunting the prospect was, Mala carefully slid down to the bed of the pool, and approached the circle. She looked at her axe and the elegant engravings on the blade, then lifted it over her head and brought it down onto the circle with all her strength. Lightning crackled and thunder boomed.

Night was falling by the time she found the throne room again. Blood soaked her trousers and a burn ran from her chin, up her right cheek to her ear. Long-decayed corpses and bones had replaced many of the fallen statues, and her heart started to sink. Breaking the curse may have freed Leilatha, if only to the embrace of death. The throne was still occupied, and Mala bent to one knee, as much out of respect as a lack of energy. She couldn’t bear to look, and only when a finger touched her chin did she realize that Leilatha was still alive. She lifted her eyes. The Queen was so much more real than any time she had seen her. Her dark skin was warm and her eyes glowed with that same blue light she’d come to associate with her.

“No, no. Stand.” She gently helped Mala to her feet. “I am a Queen of a kingdom long gone.”

Mala regarded her curiously. “What happened?”

“In my own hubris I crossed the wrong person. The reflection you faced was an old echo of her.” Leilatha looked as exhausted as Mala felt. Her hands deftly removed Mala’s gauntlets. “It is a long story. I am the last of my kind.”

Mala rubbed her thumb alongside Leilatha’s as their fingers intertwined. “I’d like to hear it. But you are not the first elf I’ve ever met,” she said, boldly brushing her free hand through Leilatha’s hair. “And even then, you would not be alone. As long as you’d have me at your side.”

Leilatha tilted her head, her smile knowing. She leaned in, pressing her lips briefly to Mala’s. “I believe you promised me a ride, Mala of the Long Road.”

“Whenever you’re ready, Lady,” Mala breathed, lips buzzing and heart pounding as a new rush of energy filled her.

“Let’s leave now. And call me Leilatha.”

“Only if you just call me Mala.”

Laughing, Leilatha squeezed Mala’s fingers. “So be it.”


End file.
